


The Stylist and the Drummer

by Thunderfire69



Series: Billy/Freddie stuff [1]
Category: School of Rock - Lloyd Webber/Slater/Fellowes
Genre: (they’re all thirteen in this okay), Aged-Up Character(s), Boys In Love, Canon Compliant, During Canon, First Kiss, Getting Together, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, Soft Boys, gay pining, lowkey based on my school production of this show which just did its last show, my s/o started shipping them watching the show blame them for this pairing, oblivious idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 03:50:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20001865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thunderfire69/pseuds/Thunderfire69
Summary: Freddie Hamilton can clearly remember everything that led up to their Battle Of The Bands performance; specifically because most of those memories involved one Billy Sandford. He remembered some things in greater detail than others, but if you asked him how Summer became band manager, or how Tomika got to be lead singer, he’d awkwardly shrug and give you a vague answer.If you asked how Billy became the stylist, however, be prepared for an hour long story with infinite details, the same way someone with a photographic memory would. So it wasn’t exactly hard to figure out who he liked, but then again Freddie usually didn’t talk to anyone outside of his close friend group.-OR-Freddie has a good memory when it comes to things related to Billy. Too bad he’s a little bit oblivious to the fact that Billy likes him, too.





	The Stylist and the Drummer

Freddie Hamilton can clearly remember everything that led up to their Battle Of The Bands performance; specifically because most of those memories involved one Billy Sandford. He remembered some things in greater detail than others, but if you asked him how Summer became band manager, or how Tomika got to be lead singer, he’d awkwardly shrug and give you a vague answer.

If you asked how  _ Billy  _ became the stylist, however, be prepared for an hour long story with infinite details, the same way someone with a photographic memory would. So it wasn’t exactly hard to figure out who he  _ liked _ , but then again Freddie usually didn’t talk to anyone outside of his close friend group.

Said close friend group was exactly two people; Zack and Mason. Freddie didn’t really talk to them about personal stuff that much though, more superheroes and sports games.

It was why everyone had seemed shocked when he’d spoken up in class that time Mr Schn- Mr  _ Finn _ had told them all to “stick it to the man”... but that was a story in and of itself.

In fact, Freddie hadn’t really noticed Billy until Mr Finn had arrived and turned the class on its head by making them into a band. It was only really the week before that Freddie had casually noted Billy was cute, but after Mr Finn had given them roles in the band? Well, Freddie had fallen head over heels.

He’d been rapt, his attention so caught up in his classmates suddenly showing talents he never knew they possessed. Mr Finn had seemed just as passionate, urging them all to join in some way, even giving the control freak Summer Hathaway a role as band manager.

Then Mr Finn had begun to give out more and more roles, and Freddie was sure he was making them up. Security, Roadies- so many things Freddie hadn’t even begun to imagine would be associated with a rock band. Billy had sprung forward at that moment, no fear in his movements as he stepped up in front of the whole class.

“Can I be stylist?”

Mr Finn had turned to him and smiled. “ _ Check. _ ”

“Yes!” Billy had leapt and punched the air here, and it was possibly the most adorable thing Freddie had ever seen.

He also remembered Summer calling Freddie stupid for playing percussion, and right before he’d yelled at her to shut up (his anger getting the best of him here), Billy had muttered something to himself. Freddie hadn’t been able to make out what it was, however, and later assumed it was probably something to do with worrying if Summer would make fun of him for wanting to be the stylist or something.

Freddie also remembered how diligently Billy had set to work after that, pulling out a large sketchpad from seemingly nowhere-  _ where the hell was he even keeping it anyway? _ \- and instantly setting to work sketching out designs. Freddie had actually seen a couple, as he’d casually walked past Billy’s desk as he’d been sketching (definitely  _ not  _ because Billy was adorable, but because he was curious about the designs).

They were… interesting, to say the least, but Freddie realised quickly that Billy was just getting down ideas. Some elements actually looked really good, and Freddie had to force himself to not stop and stare. He wasn’t exactly sure Billy wanted him seeing his designs, or if he wanted to talk about them either.

So Freddie had just continued past and left the classroom for lunch break, using all of his willpower to not turn and glance back at Billy.

The next memory Freddie had was the day after Mr Finn had formed them into a band; he was asking the class about their  _ influences  _ and seemed to be having a bit of a fit whenever he got an answer he didn’t like. It was why Freddie didn’t speak up, apart from to ask what they’d play.

He distinctly remembered Billy getting called upon by Mr Finn for his answer, and the way Mr Finn’s face had contorted in a look of extreme horror when the reply he received was a very uncertain, “Adele?”

Mr Finn had then gone on a rant about how this project was called  _ rock band  _ and listed off a bunch of bands that Freddie couldn’t remember if he tried. What he could remember though was the crushed look on Billy’s face after Mr Finn had dismissed his music tastes.

It made Freddie desperately want to try and offer him some sort of comfort; to lie and say he listened to Adele a lot too, or to tell him that Mr Finn (though then he and the class still believed him to be Mr Schneebly) was an idiot who didn’t know what he was talking about.

Of course he didn’t, though. He wasn’t a confident person, and in this situation he was even less confident than usual. So he just stayed seated behind the drum kit, mindlessly fiddling with his drumsticks and keeping his gaze down for the most part to avoid looking at the expression on Billy’s face.

Freddie remembers it was later that same day, after their lunch break, that he’d found he’d spoken up for once in class. “Will we be goofing off like this for the rest of the semester?”

Almost instantly it was obvious Freddie had said the wrong thing, Mr Finn’s face hardening slightly. It was moments like this that fueled how shy Freddie had come to be over the years.

“We are not goofing off, Freddie,” he’d snapped, and launched into some speech about what they  _ were  _ doing. Again, this was one of the times that details were lost to him. This had quickly led into Mr Finn’s big speech about sticking it to the man, and in turn had created what was one of Freddie’s fondest memories of Billy.

Billy’s small complaint about when his mother got too much Botox and he couldn’t tell whether or not she was happy almost made Freddie  _ giggle _ . Giggle, for God’s sake, not laugh.

Freddie had been called upon to ask what ticked him off, and his response had been one that he figured others would easily relate to: “All the pressure.”

He was surprised to find that not only Mr Finn had looked highly approving of this answer, but Billy had looked as if he connected with that statement on a deeper level than Freddie, or anyone for that matter, understood.

It was a little later that Billy stepped forwards, and, like the previous day when he’d asked to be stylist, didn’t seem to fear being the centre of attention. If Freddie was honest, he envied that about him.

“Mr Schneebly, you’re an ugly fat loser and you have body odour.”

“We’ve done that bit, Billy,” the “teacher” had replied with a dismissive wave, but Billy was relentless.

“You’re tacky and I hate you.”

“Take a lap, Billy.”

Freddie had stared after Billy as he’d walked away, kind of awed by the fact that the other boy had that high a level of confidence. Then he snapped himself out of his thoughts and turned his attention back to the class.

Only moments later Billy was speaking up again; this time offering a band name, and the stupid suggestion made Freddie believe Billy was drunk or something.

“Pig’s Rectum.”

“Billy, we gotta talk man.”

He doesn’t remember much beyond there, but he does have memories of when Summer took charge of the class while Mr Finn was at the faculty meeting; specifically, he has memories of  _ Billy  _ during that time, and immediately after.

Summer had spun around and pointed at Billy, as if accusing him of some crime. “You! Can we review the costumes?”

“I’m still working out some looks!” Billy had looked a little frantic here, holding his sketchbook close to his chest.

“Jeez! Don’t be a tease; let’s go,” Summer said, her voice growing heavier with threat on the last two words.

“Well I was thinking a grunge-punk-glam look…”

“We don’t have time to waste while you try to find some taste,” Summer hissed at him, and Billy reluctantly gestured to Lawrence.

“Fine. Here’s the design.” At Billy’s words, Lawrence held up a glam, sparkly rock outfit that was absolutely  _ covered  _ in sequins.

“Hell no!” was heard from most of the students in the class; all of them, actually, except for Freddie.

“I’ll ditch the sequins!” Billy shouted, obviously angry, and he sat down with a huff. The rest of the class is lost somewhere in amongst all of Freddie’s other memories, and he didn’t really have an interest in retrieving it.

What mattered was the end of class, where everyone rushed out almost straight away. Freddie hung back, knowing he needed to pack up the drums, and Billy stuck around too, gathering up his sketchbook and pencils and his rejected design, looking disheartened.

“I… I really liked your outfit idea,” Freddie mumbled and Billy turned to face him.

“You’re serious?”

Freddie nodded, eyes trained on his drum kit. Fingers tapped on the snare that Freddie was staring at, and he lifted his head to meet Billy’s gaze.

“I liked your drum playing,” Billy said, then instantly screwed up his face at the way he’d worded it, but Freddie didn’t mind.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, and Billy leaned forwards a little to smile and wink at Freddie before sauntering off in that oddly fabulous, adorable way he seemed to always walk. It took all of Freddie’s willpower not to stare after him, and to instead set to work packing away the drum kit.

He had other memories, of course, of Billy in class and of just band practise in general. But those weren’t important to him, not in the ways those memories had been. Those had been the major ones, leading up to this moment, to the Battle of the Bands.

Singing Zack’s song, Teacher’s Pet, was probably the best thing for them (despite the protests of Freddie and the other students at first). And so what they hadn’t won? They’d had the time of their lives.

Freddie had enjoyed himself far more on that stage than he ever had anywhere else. He’d even jumped up to stand on the stool he sat on behind the drum kit, sticks in hands and stuck out his tongue, feeling like he was on top of the world as the crowd cheered for the band.

But the thing Freddie found most important, the thing he cared the most about was after the show, after they’d been called out for an encore. It was when they were all milled around backstage, congratulating No Vacancy (despite Mr Finn’s obvious distaste for them) and commending each other on their performances.

Tomika had approached Freddie, looking like she was about to scold him like his mother always seemed to do. “I’m so  _ sick  _ and  _ tired  _ of your shit.”

Freddie just stared blankly at her for a moment before she continued. “You’re so oblivious! Both of you are!”

“What?” Freddie tilted his head slightly in confusion.

Tomika sighed, shaking her head slightly. “You and Billy!”

Freddie felt his mouth go dry. “You know?”

Tomika let out a dry, humourless laugh. “Who doesn’t? You’re always staring after him and he’s always quick to defend you.”

Freddie shook his head, taking a half step back. “No. No, he just thinks of me as a good classmate, or a friend if I’m lucky.”

“You know that on the day Summer said you were too stupid to play anything other than percussion he muttered ‘shut up’ to himself before you stood up to her?”

Freddie’s eyes widened. “He did?”

Tomika nodded, looking exasperated. “And whenever anything to do with costume design was discussed, he was always looking to see  _ your  _ reaction, not anyone else’s.”

Freddie felt his face grow hot. “Oh…”

“Yeah  _ oh _ , you big dumbass,” Tomika said, somewhat affectionately. “Now stop dancing around each other. Go tell him how you feel.”

Freddie nodded dumbly, turning to look over the group of children. He spotted Billy almost instantly, sitting away from the group and looking pretty dejected. He made his way over, sitting down quietly next to Billy.

“Hey,” Freddie said softly, internally wincing at how shaky his voice was. “You okay?”

Billy looked up, meeting his gaze for a split second. “They didn’t even use any part of my ideas.”

_ Oh. _ Freddie looked down at the floor for a moment, unsure of what to say. “Well they just can’t recognise talent. Your designs were beautiful.”

Freddie wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not, but in the darkness he could have sworn he could see Billy blush. A soft, nervous laugh came from Billy, his head ducked down almost in a sheepish manner.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, not looking up. “You guys played really well.”

Now it was Freddie’s turn to feel embarrassed, and he almost dropped his head like Billy had before thinking better of it. “Thanks.”

There was silence between them for a minute, and then Billy lifted his head and blurted out, “I like you. Like, I  _ like  _ like you.”

Then his face reddened and he dropped his chin again, but Freddie caught him before he could stare at the ground again. He leaned over and, feeling a little brave but not brave enough to  _ properly  _ kiss Billy, pressed his lips to the other boy’s forehead for a moment.

“I like like you too,” he mumbled and Billy smiled, letting out a small laugh. God, Billy’s laugh was one of the nicest things Freddie had ever heard.

Billy took Freddie’s hand in his own, and Freddie found himself marvelling at how  _ good  _ it felt to get to hold Billy’s hand. For a moment they said nothing, just letting the moment settled over them before Billy spoke again.

“We’re so stupid,” he said quietly and it was Freddie’s turn to laugh.

“Disasters of thirteen-year-olds,” he put in and Billy joined him in laughing softly.

“Can I…” Billy paused, seeming more nervous that Freddie had ever seen the confident, carefree teen act before. “Can I kiss you?”

Freddie smiled. “Couldn’t say no if I tried.”

**Author's Note:**

> Look so because this is based off of my school’s production of this show (which literally just had its last show on Saturday and it was Saturday two hours ago and I already miss the show and cast so much) certain things are just from our show. For instance the part where Freddie stands on his stool with drumsticks in hand and tongue out? That was a pose in our bows for our show that our Freddie did.


End file.
